


Storm

by RedgraveQueen



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedgraveQueen/pseuds/RedgraveQueen
Summary: Something new! This story is AU and not cannon compliment. It is sent after Serena retires from Holby. Only she’s never yet set eyes on Bernie Wolfe. instead, she’s travelled miles from home to the seaside where she hoped to realise a peaceful retirement. Instead she meets a dark storm, a deep depression and some very strange characters.(Karla is my own fictional character)I hope you enjoy!!
Relationships: Serena Campbell x Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue: _The clouds above Karla’s caravan are dense and dark. A turbulent wind is building up over the ocean, making the shells that hang from ropes on her poach clatter together; sending one hurtling to the ground, where it shatters. Karla, who’s been watching through the window, pulls her cardigan up around her face as she braves the storm. She crouches on her haunches and collects the broken fragments, frowning as she cradles them in cupped hands. To her, they symbolise the fragments of the summer that is finally drawing to a close. Broken. Disjointed. somewhat meaningless. She carries them back into her shelter, locking the door behind her and pulling lace curtains across every window space but one. She likes to have a view out onto the pier just incase. For her own safety more than anything. She pours a deep red liquid into a goblet and settles onto the_ _low sofa. Every inch of the caravan is beautifully decorated; Dream catchers hang from the ceiling, crystals adorn every surface as the scent of herbal incense drifts gently from a burner on the little wooden table in the centre of the room. Bright and warm, a stark contrast to the conditions of the world outside. The storm is really raging now. She feels pitifully sorry for the woman she observes out on the pier, a green anorak not quite cutting it, failing to protect her from the elements. She walks a little further and leans against the rusty mental railing. The realisation dawns on Karla slowly... then all at once. She’s going to jump._

Chapter 1:

1:50 PM: Thursday

Serena feels glum. Her last day at Holby plays out in her mind as if it was yesterday. Retiring to the seaside was such as exciting prospect all of those months ago. She’d never considered the loneliness, the boredom, the sense of purposelessness. She was planning to walk along the beach this afternoon; hoping the feeling of sand beneath her feet and the sounds of the ocean would lift her spirits. She grimaces at the heavy raindrops hitting her patio door as she finishes her ham sandwich. She touches her phone, triggering the cracked screen to illuminate. She needn’t have bothered. The screen boasts no needy text from Jason- no friendly ‘how are you getting on?’ Text from Ric or Fleur. She notices it’s on a low percentage but pulls the plug from the socket anyway. It is no longer a necessary part of her like it used to be... instead it serves to remind her of the people who are quickly forgetting her. She drains her coffee though she’s craving something stronger. The clock on the oven shows 2:00 and she contemplates reaching for the open bottle of Shiraz in her ‘wine cellar’ (her name for the little cupboard that sits beneath the stairs) but she’s damn sick of sitting in, drinking on her own. She considers the bars in her local vicinity. The prospect of a gaggle of ex sailor men, propped against the bar, offering nothing but sleazy remarks makes her stomach turn. But only a mile from here is the vibrant seaside town of Blackpool. On the most part shes kept well away up to now but by her own admission, that’s because she’s a terrible snob. She pulls on her boots and her deep green raincoat. She’s going into Blackpool. And she’s going to have a jolly good time. The overwhelming smell of candy floss hits her as the tram approaches the town and Serena can’t help smiling. It reminds her of the sunny days spent on a fairground as a child, with the mother and sister she’ll never see again. She jumps off the tram as they reach the tower, her breath hitching slightly as she’s caught in a throng of departing passengers on exit. She’s relieved to be out in the open again and decides a strong drink is going to be her first port of call. There’s a bar at the top of the pier. Not the central- with the big wheel and the flashing lights and screaming children. The quieter one north of town. Or so she thought... It’s fairly busy, for a Thursday afternoon but she manages to find a spot with a nice view of the ocean. The sky is growing dark and a harsh wind is building up over the choppy ocean; threatening a storm. It reflects her mood perfectly. One glass of wine slips away too easily. As does the second... then the third. This is not how she imagined her retirement to play out, drinking alone, only now In a shabby bar, watching raindrops roll down clouded glass. She orders another drink, hoping it will lift her spirits. She knows it’s too late. The dark, heavy depression that’s been hanging over her for weeks is setting in. It first visited her years ago and although it lifts, it’s never fully gone away. Now, it’s here in full. Is this it? Her future? She gazes around her. There’s a couple smooching at the bar... a group of teens mill about by the pool table as children (presumably their younger siblings) play with snap cards on the floor. Their parents sit happily drinking beer, oblivious to them. A gaggle of women sit by the door, chatting and laughing. And Serena is alone. The seats adjacent to her remain empty. Her mind remains empty of conversation. Her heart empty of everything; she decides. Then, she chortles. How utterly dramatic and ridiculous she’s being. She drains her glass and heads for the door, searching for some kind of escape. She can’t escape her mind; so leaving this grungy, crowded bar will have to do. The sensation of ice cold rain hitting her hot cheeks makes eases the anxiety thats bubbling in her stomach, threatening to spill over and make her openly panic. She wanders further down the pier- letting the sounds of the turbulent ocean wash over her. She is mildly aware of her surroundings as she continues. She passes an ice cream van, a typical seaside fortune tellers caravan, an arcade. When she reaches the end of the pier she’s in an almost trance like state. The anxiety strangely melted away now, leaving behind nothing but a cold, painful emptiness. The alcohol is making her head spin and she reaches out to grasp the rusty railing in front of her. She stares down at the waves below, lapping peacefully at the wooden legs of the pier as the storm begins to ease. And for a minute, she thinks... Then a hand grasps her shoulder. It’s strangely warm, despite the layers of clothing she turns around slowly. It’s the woman from the caravan. She remembers seeing her now; leaning against the foggy window; watching. “Please don’t jump... talk to me? Maybe I can help?” Serena just laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

“My name is Karla” 

The woman says quietly. She’s taller than Serena and has long silver hair; although Serena presumes she’s a few years younger than herself. She has one of those faces that makes it very hard to tell. She’s attractive though, with dusty pink lips and long eyelashes adorning strange, colourless eyes. Her voice is low and she speaks with a southern accent. Serena briefly wonders why she’s here; gazing into her crystal ball in murky Blackpool? There are plenty of bustling tourist piers down there. Then she remembers... she’s hours away from home too. 

“I wasn’t going to jump.” 

Serena says bluntly. In truth- she has no idea about what she was about to do. But somewhere inside her she’s thankful for the warm hand on her shoulder... perhaps a momentary lifeline. If nothing else; a distraction from her dark thoughts. 

“Im Serena, by the way.” 

The other woman nods, which for some reason, puts Serena on edge. 

“It’s blowing an absolute gale out here. Why don’t you come inside, shelter for a while?” 

She gestures towards her caravan which is wobbling significantly on account of the wind. For a moment Karla thinks that Serena is going to sneer and walk away but she detects the scent of alcohol on her breath and formulates a plan. She has developed a strong, inexplicable urge to help this woman and believes she has the power to do so. This could  
Be her chance to use her gifts to make a real difference to someone and she’s not about to let that slip away. 

“I have just opened a bottle of red... a lovely mature merlot. It would be such a shame to have to finish it all alone?” 

Wearily, Serena follows her inside. She can’t deny she’s in need of another drink; though she’d have preferred a Shiraz. Beggars can’t be choosers, she supposes. 

The natural light has all but faded now but dainty fairy lights trail down from from the ceiling, casting a glow of varying rainbow shades over the small room. Serena has never seen anything quite like it. The quirky, eclectic decorations are utterly beautiful but far too busy and cluttered for her taste. 

She thinks about her new home. Could she call it a home? It’s still so bland, so uncharacteristic and un-lived in. Perhaps she should take some inspiration; collect some crystals and candles and books; make her space more aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps the then she’d be happier about spending time there. 

She accepts the goblet of wine gratefully and brings it up to her lips shuddering as the deep red liquid hits the back of her throat. 

“Christ that’s strong!” 

Karla smiles. 

“Good isn’t it!” 

Her eyes follow Serena as she scans the room, noticing as they fix on the crystal ball in the window. 

“You don’t believe in that kind of stuff, do you?”

She says quietly, observing her expression. Serena holds back her comment. 

“I could give you a reading though? See if it will change your mind?” 

Serena rolls her eyes as she begins to process what is being said... then a familiar anger starts to bubble in the pit of her stomach. It spreads throughout her body, making her squirm in her seat. She’s been played again. She’s decided, suddenly, that Karla (if that’s her real name) isn’t reaching out, trying to be kind. She’s picked up on her drunkenness- she’s using her. She’ll be asking for a fee before long. 

“This was a mistake”

She growls- taking a swing from her glass then setting it down by her feet as she stands. 

“You’re trying to con me aren’t you...?”

Karla’s expression stops her in her tracks though... she looks genuinely hurt. Offended even. 

“That is absolutely not my intention. I was drawn to you, Serena, out on the pier. I get a lot of insight by just looking at you. I’d like to offer it... to help you. I suspect that you’re in need of it... Am I right? 

Her voice is gentle and convincing and Serena nods involuntarily though It appears that Karla would have continued regardless.

“You’ve escaped haven’t you Serena? You’ve run away from a life you no longer wanted. A life that no longer served you. You’ve worked as a professional for years haven’t you? Medical? You’ve helped, saved, healed so many. But nobody ever healed you. And you’re tired. You needed to get away, start again...” 

Serena wants to laugh. Wants to scoff. But she can’t... because the words this woman is speaking are reflecting the thoughts that have surged around her conflicted brain for months. She knows these con artists spin lines like that... general, fuzzy words of wisdom that somehow fit with everyone. But the more specific insight, about her profession. How the hell did she know that?

“You’re going to meet someone Serena. Here, in this town... the town that you think of as trashy and downtrodden... and pointless.  
It’s going to prove you wrong Serena. You’re going to bump into someone... in a bar? I think you’ll meet them in a bar. And they’ll change your life...” 

Serena is laughing now. As she pulls on her coat and heads for the door. This woman is either crazy or very clever... or both. She wonders how many people fall for this utter bullshit. A bar? That comment clearly came from her current intoxicated state. The rest of the comments could apply to anyone. She curses herself for following the crook as she checks her purse and phone are secure in her pocket. 

When she turns back, Karla is stood in the doorway. She has a somewhat desperate expression on her face. 

“Look for her Serena. Please. She’s waiting for you.” 

Her? Serena snorts as she continues up the pier. ‘That woman really is deluded!’


	3. Chapter 3

It is 10:00 when Serena finally begins to rouse. Her head is thick with alcohol and the dreams that have danced around her head for the past seven hours refuse to leave her. She shivers as she slides her legs out of bed and pushes her feet into the fluffy slippers that are waiting by the open door. 

She decides she’s mustn’t have been in too awful of a state last night as she’d managed to undress and memories are slipping back into her consciousness as she pours boiling water over ground coffee beans. Everything is hazy though. Her last distinct memory is of leaving the fortune tellers caravan. Of the strange message that has haunted her dreams. Could there be any truth in those words? She scoffs at herself. She was just drunk. She’d never believe that shit sober! 

The storm has cleared now, leaving a thick blanket of fog. She can’t see to the end of her garden. She slides her feet into her wellies- wincing as her toes make contact with the damp and opens up the back door, enjoying the sensation of cold air on her burning cheeks. She takes a minute and leans against the wall, focusing on the mist that forms before her on account of her warm breath colliding with the cool breeze. She refuses to let her mind wander back to events of the previous night and forces herself to focus on the image before her. The imagine of nothingness created by the ever thickening mist. She decides house work is in the cards today. Keeping herself busy usually serves as a good distraction and her house has fallen into a state of disarray over the past few days. She hoovers and dusts, polishes and tidies until her arms ache and she is throughly bored. 

That same time the day before she was planning a night out on the colourful streets of Blackpool. Her attempt took a strange path. She decides that maybe she should do it for real... a proper night out! Not getting drink alone at the end of the murky pier and following an oddball into a caravan, letting her words take over her head. 

She frowns at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Every day she notices a new line... a deeper circle below her eye... an alteration to her appearance. She dabs on some heavy duty foundation- setting it with powder. She opens up her phone and begins to scroll through popular venues in the seaside town. 

A certain excitement begins to grow in the out of her stomach. Tonight, she’s out for a good time... to let her hair down... to be herself again. 

She spends a long time on her makeup- on making her hair look just right. She pours over outfits in her wardrobe- eventually pairing her favourite leopard print blouse with her most expensive pair of black high heels. They make her feel sexy.

When she arrives in town the fog is thicker than ever. She peers at herself in her phone screen and adjusts a loose strand of hair before proceeding into the nearest bar. The lights are low; despite the fact it’s only 5PM. Neon lights boasting brashy slogans adorn the walls. She orders a large white wine... she’d normally opt for a Shiraz but feels that the white creates a trendier image in a place like this. It’s the kind of bar where your feet stick to the ground and is quickly filling up with youths as she begins to sip her wine. She contemplates leaving; feeling totally out of place until she spots a woman about her age propped at the other end of the bar. She’s sipping from a dram of whiskey, staring into space. 

“Hi!” 

The woman jumps as she’s pulled from her thoughts. 

“Oh... hello!” 

Her voice is deep and smooth and sort of reminds Serena of honey. 

“I felt a bit out of place in here, amongst all of the young folk... until I spotted you!” 

The other woman chortles. 

“Excuse me... are you saying I look old?”

Serena blushes. Her and her big mouth! She’s relieved though as a wry smile spreads across her face as she reaches out her hand. 

“I’m Bernie.”

“Lovely to meet you Bernie. I’m Serena. Are you local?” 

The woman hesitates. 

“Well... not really. I’m working in the area” 

Serena is instantly curious. The women fall into an easy conversation and they’re extremely surprised to discover that they are both surgeons. 

“What a strange coincidence” 

Her thoughts are once again carried away to the gypsy woman... “you’ll meet a woman in a bar...” 

Ridiculous. There are thousands of women in thousands of bars... those words could  
apply to anyone! And the jobs? Just a mad coincidence, like she said.


End file.
